


Only Fools (Follow Golden Rules)

by celestialbisexual



Category: The Scarlet Pimpernel - All Media Types, The Scarlet Pimpernel - Wildhorn/Knighton
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Misunderstandings, Multi, Polyamory, percy and chauvelin's ridiculous and stupid flirting, percy blakeney is an actual trickster god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 10:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialbisexual/pseuds/celestialbisexual
Summary: George Hanover is simply trying to run a business. His employees are making that slightly more difficult





	

George Hanover walked into his office on Monday morning with a pep in his step.

“My good employees, I have wonderful news for you all” he called out. “Mr. Robespierre and I have finally hammered out the details of our upcoming joint venture.”

George held up his hand to ward off the applause which would no doubt follow that announcement. “Now I know that our companies have not always been on the best of terms, but I expect everyone to be kind and welcoming to our new allies.”

“Here, here” Blakeney shouted. George smiled. He knew he could always trust Mr. Blakeney to have the proper spirit about things.

“I’m so glad to hear that Blakeney, as I have nominated you to work alongside Mr. Chauvelin to sort out the financial details.”

Mrs. Blakeney choked, and then spat out a mouthful of coffee. “Don’t mind me, just swallowed wrong.” She muttered. She had been with the company some years now, but George still didn’t have a clue what she was thinking. He blamed the accent. 

After sorting out a few more details with the rest of the staff, he swept back to his office to do important managerial things, and congratulate himself on a job well done. 

His reverie was interrupted by the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Blakeney fighting outside of his window. Mrs. Blakeney threw the door open and shoved her husband through it. 

“Talk to him.” She hissed.

“Marg, I don’t think this is entirely necessary-” 

“Just do it” And with that she had whirled around and left, slamming the door behind her, leaving Blakeney standing in the middle of George’s office, shaking his head.

He flopped down in one of George’s chairs and put his feet up on the desk (Purple wingtips, the ridiculous man), ignoring George’s irritated huff.

“Marguerite is concerned about my working with Chauvelin. You see-”

George cut him off. “I am well aware of the situation, Mr. Blakeney, and I trust you to be entirely professional regardless of your personal relationship with Mr. Chauvelin.”

“You- wait you know?” Percy blinked, taken by surprise for possibly the first time in his life. “Marg and I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“A good boss keeps himself abreast of his employees personal lives.” George said haughtily. He had read that in a book on management he had read in college, and he rather liked the phrase. 

“And you are an excellent boss. Well if you’ve no further need of me, I will take your leave of you, Your Majesty” Percy said, giving an elaborate bow on his way out of George’s office. George chuckled to himself, shaking his head ruefully. 

 

He had heard about it by the water cooler, actually. Some people thought that water coolers were outdated in today’s workplace, but George felt that they fostered a sense of community and family that was important in the fast-paced corporate world. And if he happened to keep it near enough to his office that he could hear what was said, well, there was no harm in that. 

On this particular day, he happened to hear Mrs. Blakeney talking to one of her lady friends. Over their paper cups, Mrs. Blakeney, (then Ms. St. Just, and still an unknown quantity) had told the story of her affair with Mr. Chauvelin back at their old office. She had broken it off shortly before she left for George’s company, and apparently the poor fellow had taken it rather poorly. George couldn’t say he was surprised. Mrs. Blakeney was quite a catch, if a bit cold for George’s liking. Very shortly afterwards she had taken up with Blakeney, and the rest was history.

So George could be sympathetic to Blakeney not wanting to work with his wife’s less-than-amiable ex, but really, the man was a professional. It simply wouldn’t do to allow interpersonal drama effect his work. George believed that Mr. Blakeney, for all his faults, could rise to this challenge and create a masterful product with Mr. Chauvelin

 

George’s absolute and unwavering faith in Percy Blakeney lasted until about five minutes after Chauvelin walked in that next Monday. The man cut an intimidating figure, sharp black suit and steely-eyed scowl. George wasn’t intimidated, of course. But he could see how others might be. 

George gave him the tour of the office, not making much eye contact (the man’s too damned tall for George’s tastes) before bringing him round to the desk he’d be sharing with Blakeney.

The man in question was dressed in a navy polka dot suit (George had seen Mrs. Blakeney earlier in a much more toned down navy two-piece, so at least they were matching) and draped across the desk with a rose in his mouth in a manner that George could only describe as seductive.

“Hello Citizen Chauvelin” Blakeney fucking purred. Chauvelin stared at his face for a long moment, and then just as George was about to apologize, or reprimand Percy, or say something to salvage the situation, Chauvelin sat down at his desk, swept Blakeney’s legs off his half the desk unceremoniously and booted up his computer.

“Hello Mr. Blakeney” He said civilly. Percy didn’t seem the least bit offended at the nonchalant reaction to his greeting. (Which, given the three-day fit he had thrown when no one got the reference to an obscure French novel he put in his budget powerpoint, was rather shocking.) He smirked, pulled himself off the desk, very nearly landing in Chauvelin’s lap, and moved to his own chair. 

“Remember the conversation we had about professionalism” George hissed as Percy passes.

“Rest assured Highness, I keep it always in my rememberances” He said blithely. If George didn’t know better, he might qualify the noise Chauvelin makes as a snort. George nodded, and turned on his heel and strode into his office, where at least things made some damn sense. He was suddenly grateful for Chauvelin’s stony demeanor. Surely things would improve once Blakeney realized his intended victim would not rise to his taunts.

 

Things did not, in fact, improve. If anything, Blakeney seemed to take Chauvelin’s stoicism as something of a challenge. The next week reminded George a great deal of Percy’s first week at the company, before they had sat down and had a talk about responsibility and compassion and for the love of God Blakeney please stop wearing neon in this place of business.

The neon had not reappeared thankfully, (George heard a rumor that Mrs. Blakeney burned it in the early stages of the courtship) but the attitude is another matter entirely. Honestly, if George didn’t know better, he’d say that Blakeney was behaving like a schoolboy with a crush. It was completely ridiculous.

On Monday Percy hid all of the staplers in the entire building while everyone else was at lunch. Now, the office was largely paperless, a fact George was particularly proud of. However, important documents, like a partnership between the company and their longtime rival, required paper copies for the records, and thus required staplers.

“I’ll give you a stapler in exchange for a kiss.” Percy said, leering at Chauvelin while perched on his desk, which was completely unnecessary. His chair eas perfectly nice. All of the chairs were, George got ergonomic chairs at Percy’s suggestion. 

Mrs. Blakeney resolved the matter by snatching the stapler out of his hand and thrusting it into Chauvelin’s chest. After work, George gave Blakeney a lecture on sexual harassment. Percy looked at him with big, guileless eyes and promised not to attempt to barter office supplies for sexual favors anymore.

 

Tuesday started off normal, with what should be a calm discussion over the budget details of the proposed plan. How they got to Chauvelin crowding Percy over his desk, knuckles white from gripping the edge, while they shout at each other is completely beyond George’s comprehension

“Well of course you wouldn’t understand the benefits of socialism you arrogant bougie-”

“I am not saying that I think capitalism is a perfect system but historically fully communist states have always-”

“No one is advocating revolutionary Marxism! I am just saying that-”

“Gentleman!” George snapped. Chauvelin shot away from Percy, and if George didn’t know any better he’d say the man was blushing. Percy leaned back on his elbows and shot George one of his I-know-you-can’t-fire-me-I’m-your-top-salesman smiles. 

“Apologies, Highness, political debate can be so stimulating” He said. Chauvelin seemed to be searching his already immaculate suit cuffs for any stray dust.

“Mmm. Yes. Apologies. We’ll get back to work.” He muttered, pushing past George to his desk. “Mr. Blakeney, I believe we were looking over Section 7 of the contract.”

George hesitated. His managerial instincts told him that this was the perfect moment to deliver a lecture on politics in the workplace. It would take them slightly past five, but on the other hand, it had been a while since they’d had a good company meeting. Things had a way of popping up right when he was about to-

“Mr. Hanover.” Mrs. Blakeney thrust a stack of papers at him, breaking his reverie. “These files need your attention.”

“Yes, yes.” George said, waving her off. He could call the whole company together, maybe use those communication puppets he’d bought at the convention last spring.

“Urgently.” George sighed, and took the papers from her. This was the third time she had squashed his meeting plans with paperwork. The woman truly had the world’s worst timing.

 

However on Thursday, as George left the office, he heard the too-familiar sound of raised voices, followed by a thud coming from the alley next to the office. He rushed towards the sound. A good manager should always be ready to solve conflicts, in or outside the workplace.

Chauvelin had Blakeney pinned against the wall, glowering down at him. Blakeney did not even have the sense to look frightened, appearing for all the world as if this was exactly where he’d like to be. Clearly their hostility had progressed further than George had predicted

“Mr. Blakeney!” George said loudly. “I was wondering if you could walk with me to my car?”

Blakeney pushed off the wall easily, linking his arm through George’s. “But of course Highness. See you soon Citizen.”

“Mr. Blakeney, are you quite safe?” He whispered as soon as they were out of Chauvelin’s earshot.

“Oh I am both safe and sane, don’t you fret Highness.” Blakeney replied easily. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t pester him at work, but he’s so much more fun riled up.”

With that they were at George’s car, and Blakeney had swaggered off before George had the chance to rebuke him for his entirely inappropriate behavior. 

In times like these, there was only one solution.

 

Friday morning saw all of the employees gathered together in their conference room. None of them had the proper spirit about it, but George had learned to accept long ago that he would have to drag his employees to enlightenment. 

Blakeney was seated in the first row, of course. He was the only one who truly appreciated these meetings. His wife was seated beside him, looking inscrutable as always. Chauvelin was seated on her other side, leaning on her entirely more than was proper.

“My dear employees, it has recently come to my attention that there has been some   
inappropriate workplace behavior recently- Mrs. Blakeney there’s no need to make that face, this is a serious issue- now I think that the best course of action in this situation is a guided- Mrs. Blakeney are you quite alright?- a guided exercise. Let’s have some volunteers for the first demo- yes you three in the front row?”

Chauvelin and Percy stood up graciously. Mrs. Blakeney however did not move.   
“Mrs. Blakeney is feeling a bit ‘under the weather’” Blakeney whispered to him. Mrs. Blakeney did not seem under the weather in the slightest, and for a moment George debated pressing the issue.

“Armand, you will be the third volunteer.” He barked. Armand St. Just, a cloud of dark hair and well-meaning idiocy, rose from his chair in a tangle of limbs, tripping over his own feet in his haste to make his way to the front. 

“Yes sir.” He said, swaying in front of George. George had suspected him of coming to work drunk for the first week of his internship, before Mrs. Blakeney had informed him that no, he just always moved that way. A function of his height and gangliness, most likely. Nevertheless, he was always agreeable, unlike other members of his family.

“Now, Armand, let’s imagine for a moment that you and Mr. Chauvelin are romantically involved.” Mrs. Blakeney made an angry noise, but George pressed on. “Now, imagine that you and Mr. Chauvelin break up, and you enter a romantic relationship with Mr. Blakeney here.”

“Highness, I fail to see the point in this-” 

“The point, Mr. Blakeney, is to demonstrate appropriate workplace behavior. Now Mr.  
Chauvelin, let’s say that you have to work in the same office as Armand and Mr.Blakeney here. What would you do?”

Chauvelin raised his eyebrows, something that may well have been a smile on his lips. “Well I suppose the only logical thing to do would be to seduce them both.”

“I-I’m sorry?” George blinked rapidly, as if that would somehow help him make sense of the previous statement. Chauvelin had lost his smile, and was now talking to Percy, looking decidedly irritated.

“You said you told him, Percy.” He hissed, as if the entire room couldn’t hear him. Percy shrugged.

“I did! He said he understood!” Percy exclaimed. Mrs. Blakeney rolled her eyes. 

“Yes but did you actually tell him the situation, or just assume he knew what you were talking about?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest.

Percy looked at the ground, kicking at some dust like a petulant child. “He said he ‘understood our situation’. I didn’t think I had to.”

Mrs. Blakeney made a noise troublingly similar to a growl. “So you didnt actually tell him-” She broke off suddenly, and walked to George, lowering her voice. “Mr. Hanover, what my husband neglected to inform you was that he and I have an- er- romantic arrangement with Mr. Chauvelin.”

“Ah.” George said, images of Chauvelin crowding Percy reorganizing themselves in his mind. “Well, hmm. As long as three of you are happy, there isn’t a problem. Due try to be a bit more discreet at work please. This is a place of business, not your bedroom.” 

“Of course, Mr. Hanover.” Marguerite said in the low, sweet voice she used to charm difficult clients. George was slightly offended at its use here, but he couldn’t deny the effectiveness. 

“Yes, well. Everyone go about your business, meeting adjourned.” George said sharply, straightening his cuffs and striding into his office, where he promptly sat down and began to research “three person romantic arrangement.”

That night he slept soundly in his bed, content that he had solved a workplace problem. And planning his next company meeting on ethical polyamory.

**Author's Note:**

> Revive! This! Fandom! Or just comment, that would be awesome.


End file.
